


Missed Connections

by LiveOakWithMoss



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Epistolary, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, It's probably very kinky but it all takes place off stage, M/M, More discussion of the bowel movements and behaviors of messenger birds than you'd think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 17:39:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11788110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: The Lords of Nargothrond and Himlad exchange letters. And visits. And various bodily fluids. What theydon’tdo is coordinate.





	Missed Connections

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cygnete](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cygnete/gifts).



> 0\. A very warm and happy birthday to my dear Cygnete!  
> 1\. This serves as a direct sequel to [Correspondingly So](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7734730). Read that first and this will be funnier.

* * *

 

Dear Finrod, Lord Felagund of Nargothrond, named Nóm by the smaller peoples, etc etc,

This letter may arrive no faster than I but I thought it only polite to inform you that following a period of protracted silence from your noble halls – and following an implied invitation during your last visit to Himlad – I have decided to take it upon myself to make the trek west. Perhaps you will argue that it would be even more polite to have informed you of this prior to my departure but to this I have a threefold rebuttal:

  1. You did not ask _me_ if you could stay last time, you simply appeared. This establishes a pattern I am comfortable replicating.
  2. It was my understanding that at any rate – and given your enthusiasm for my company last we met – you had left the invitation to visit standing.
  3. I knew you would say yes.



I shall see you in three days. Less, by the time you get this. Perhaps I shall already be drinking your wine by the time you receive it in which case: lucky you.

Sincerely,

Curufin, Lord of Himlad

 

* * *

 

Dear Curufin,

Hallo! It’s me.

I haven’t heard from you in months and while my advisors and sister have informed me – with regrettable enthusiasm – that this may simply mean that you are dead, I have decided to hedge my bets. I considered simply appearing on your doorstep, given this worked out so amiably last time, but after a day on the road I have decided it would be only gentlemanly to send a message ahead.

I do not know how swift this pigeon is – she is a merry sort but prone to diverting if a charming berry appears – but with any luck she will beat me to your front door and give you at least a semblance of fair warning that my arrival is impending.

My affection and apologies to you and your charming son – I would extend it to your brother as well but I have a feeling it would be treated as so many merry pigeon leavings.

Yours,

Finrod

 

* * *

 

Curvo,

I hope that this scraggy falcon of Dagnis’s is as swift as she promises and reaches you in that HOLE down west.

Guess who showed up not five days after you left? Baggage in tow? Rubbish head all agleam? Your tame peacock. I have TOLD you I will not clean up after your pets and I am afraid I can make no promises as to him leaving Himlad in one piece. Your son, a far nobler but possibly stupider man than either of us, has defended the fowl and says he will happily show him around while I sulk (his words). But mark my words, brother, if Felagund stays here a full week without you to help me manage him I shall not be answerable for my actions.

Though truly I do not think it would be much more pleasurable if you were here as well. The two of you in one room gives me bile.

Come home and kill him or I will.

Fondly,

Tyelko

 

* * *

 

Dear Edrahil,

I know, I know.

I put two and two together within a few minutes of arriving in Himlad and while Celegorm’s expression was comical enough to make the entire farce worth it (remind me to send a sketch to Galadriel) I must say I was cursing my impulsivity and wishing I had minded your caution better. Henceforth I shall send letters ahead of my coming, and _wait for confirmation before departing_ as you advised.

More haste less speed; less urge more thought – you and my father both have told me enough.

Please treat my noble cousin with respect and establish him in the family guest chambers. I know you would like to put him in Cavern West but I also know that one has mould and I further know that you know that too. Chin up, old boy. We may be doomed but we have not lost our manners!

Your grateful king,

Finrod

P.S. Please do not concern yourself with worrying about my safety; Celebrimbor seems genuinely delighted to see me and I am relatively certain he would prevent Celegorm from doing me bodily harm. He is much brawnier than his father and at the very least will serve as a decent blockade should I need the time flee.

 

* * *

 

Dear Finrod,

Idiot.

Did you really think I would be equally amused to find you at my step without foreknowledge? Do you not remember how happy I was last time? I wasn’t. I was not happy at that unpredicted coming. Shut up, I am going to scratch that last bit out but I know you will still see it through the ink and I can _hear_ you cackling about it.

_Have you never heard of waiting for an invitation?_

Furthermore, and before you turn this back on me, I might add that if we were to track only the pattern and not articulated request, then it would CLEARLY be my turn to travel to you. I am out of tin and everything. Even an imbecile would be able to predict that if one of us were to travel to the other this round, it would be me to you. I am glad you are not here, it is sparing your fair neck a throttling.

Bloody fool.

So should I leave or what? Sit here on my arse and wait for you to amble back?? Once you have thoroughly bollocksed up my affairs at Himlad and probably been a negative influence on my son and riled my brother to a faretheewell? Shall I twiddle my thumbs and WAIT? Or shall I make my way to you? There is nothing to DO here.

Whatever you do, let us DISCUSS it first. I still cannot believe you thought writing me from the ROAD was effective enough a forewarning.

Shut up.

Curufin

P.S. How did we not cross paths????? Geography, geometry, and the fundamental nature of time state that we should have at least passed retinues on the road.

 

* * *

 

Curufin,

My dear, do calm yourself. This is quite a simple knot to undo, and just as soon as I have finished sketching the falls (your son is an excellent guide) I shall make my way southwest and to your fond embrace – or fond throttling, whichever makes you happier. I am entirely at your disposal. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable in Nargothrond and try not to scare the servants. Perhaps you can take a turn about our forges and catalogue the ways in which they are lacking.

As for how we did not cross paths, it is likely because you followed your friend the roaring Aros and I tracked Esgalduin past Menegroth and my sister. Doriath does not perhaps smile upon me, but nor does it throw barbed spears into my gut as it would yours.

Meanwhile, my gut is telling me to return to you with as much haste as my art tour will allow, so consider by the time you receive this I will have left.

If none of your brother’s arrows are in my back as I do then so much the better.

Yours,

Finrod

P.S. I slipped into your chambers last night; your coverlet still smells of you.

I shall hurry, I promise.

 

* * *

 

Dear Finrod,

Thus far while awaiting your rumored arrival I have:

  * Perused your entire library;
  * Surveyed your forges;
  * Promenaded the Narog; and
  * Gone through your wardrobe.



I can report:

  * Your taste in fiction is abominable
  * Your forges have _actual cobwebs growing on them_ , for the Valar’s sake _smelt more_
  * Mosquitos
  * I look better in navy than you do. Why do you even _have_ that robe?



I’m bored. Hurry faster or I will just go home and serve you right.

Curufin

 

* * *

  

My dear, I am _trying_.

It is difficult when I have to stop at intervals to flag down bewildered looking falcons who look like they’ve just been scolded for leaving droppings on the parchment. They cannot help it! One would not scold a swan for swimming nor a horse for running nor – you, for being an arid neurotic. One simply accepts the nature of creatures and appreciates what benefits they have that make up for their shortcomings.

At any rate, I am less than a day out I promise you. I shall arrive coated in the grime of travel and without having had a moment to wash in all my haste and it shall serve _you_ right if I throw myself into your arms in exactly that condition.

Yours,

Finrod

 

* * *

 

Finrod,

Do try to restrain yourself. If you throw yourself into my arms like some fainting maiden it shall seriously undermine your authority with any inferiors who may be watching.

On second thought, feel free to prostrate yourself onto me in any way you wish.

(Your argument about rebuking a falcon who shits on one’s correspondence is full of holes, by the way. One would absolutely chasten and correct a horse who runs when it is asked to walk, and I have _seen_ your father scold swans for swimming. I believe his exact words were ‘Not over there my foolish lovelies, lest we foul the water where the sweet carp children live!’ They didn’t listen, but that is because your father has never had an instinct for command. And you, I will note, scold me for being an arid neurotic in every other letter you send. Don’t pretend I can’t penetrate your charm and diplomacy to see what you’re really saying.)

This arid neurotic says don’t bother hurrying, your bed is more comfortable without you in it and I’m keeping the navy robe.

Refraining from shitting on your correspondence,

Curufin

P.S. There’s a scrum at the gate, is it you?

 

* * *

 

Dear Edrahil,

Let me first apologize. I know it was unconscionable – and in breach of your contract – to leave you alone a week with a Fëanorion. You performed admirably! You didn’t keep him out of my chambers or from touching my things but, well, that may have been a lost cause. I promise I shall not allow one here unsupervised again, and I have approved your quarterly leave for an additional two weeks. Go somewhere relaxing!

I apologize also for the scene on my return, and for what you most regrettably witnessed this morning when you came to deliver the morning reports. I would have apologized in the moment but as you saw, my mouth was rather incapacitated at the time. I apologize on Curufin’s behalf as well, though he says he regrets nothing.

I promise dealing with the sheets, curtains, and carpets will not be your responsibility.

Thank you for your loyalty, discretion, patience, and, to quote what your face said even if your tongue was to polite to, long suffering. Can I offer you a pay raise?

In gratitude,

Finrod

 

* * *

  

Dear Celegorm,

Remember that thing you bet me I couldn’t do with my hands tied behind my back?

You owe me seven coin.

Best,

Curufin

 

* * *

 

Dear Curufin,

Did I SAY I wanted to know? Keep your foul contortions to yourself.

I got a letter from Maedhros yesterday. He said all is quiet but I could read between the lines; I suspect a major incursion is brewing in Angband. You had best come back if you can stand to extricate yourself from Felagund’s sheets/curtain ties. Think how bad you’d feel if an invasion began and you had left your son and brothers to languish on the front lines with our weapons out of date! Don’t tell me Celebrimbor can do the design work all of his own, the poor boy is overworked as it is.

But don’t let me rush you. I am sure you’re doing very important and not at all indulgent things. No doubt Father would approve.

Your brother,

Celegorm

P.S. Your seven coin is enclosed. It may have bird droppings on. Occupational hazard, sorry.

 

* * *

 

Dear Father,

I hope you are enjoying your time in Nargothrond. I have always been intrigued by the stories I have heard of its architecture. For example, is it truly hewn from a single mafic batholith, or are there intrusions? Are smaller dikes accommodated into the design or brute-forced from the composition? I look forward to your account of it all.

I am writing for a word of advice: Do you have a trick for getting Uncle Celegorm to focus on his duties? I only ask because he was supposed to meet with the tanners’ guild today and instead locked himself in the stables and got drunk with several of the horses. I was able to make his excuses to the tanners but his loud singing in Horse rather undermined my efforts to describe him as wrapped up in a border security meeting.

Dagnis has suggested that I hit him over the head and tie him to the counsel table and your faithful Boridhren brought up bribery, but I thought I should consult with you first.

Please give my regards to cousin Finrod.

Respectfully,

Celebrimbor

 

* * *

 

Dear Celegorm and Celebrimbor,

Enough with the whining, I am heading back tomorrow. You would think I took care of everything up there to hear you both go on. (Come to think of it, I _do_ take care of everything. This is my own fault for assuming you could make do without me.) Please try not to burn the fortress to the ground in the very brief span before I return.

Nargothrond is a sufficient enough place. It may not have the quality of construction I have come to expect from the Noldor (but it is, of course, ruled by only half a Noldo so we shall have to lower our bar.) The kingdom’s shortcomings notwithstanding I deem it, its strategic location, and its resources worth exploring further at a future date. Purely for academic reasons, you read me.

To avoid the two of you complaining during a future sojourn, I plan to bring you both with me. Celebrimbor can improve the forges and Celegorm can stay out of the cellars. Keep it in your appointment books.

I shall see you soon.

Sincerely,

Curufin

P.S. Do not get fidgety if I take longer than expected to return. I have opted to walk rather than ride for reasons that are entirely my own.

P.P.S. If I find even a single bottle in the stables when I arrive I shall have your skin, Tyelko.

P.P.P.S. When we next go to Nargothrond please make a note that we should demand request rooms in the _East_ wing. The West, I noted, smells horribly of mould.

 

 

 


End file.
